


Of Ancient Fable and Fear

by ketonicoxygen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:49:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketonicoxygen/pseuds/ketonicoxygen
Summary: Q found a photo album with “Venice, 2006” written over the cover on a Sunday morning.





	

Q finds a photo album with _“Venice, 2006”_ written over the cover on a Sunday morning.

Q wasn’t snooping into Bond’s past. He really wasn’t. It was an accident. A week ago Bond finally could be arsed to pick up the few boxes packed by Six when they sold his flat from the storage. And because they unofficially moved in together into Q’s flat at some point over the past two years of their relationship (that’s what this is, though neither of them have yet to put a label on what they have—at least not out loud), Bond brought the boxes to Q’s. They’re mostly old stuff from Bond’s life before Six that could be of sentimental values—the rest of his things, mostly clothes, they donated to charities, though Q always wonders about exactly what kind of charities receive high-quality tailored suits and other Bond’s extravagant purchases.

The point is, he wasn’t snooping. They’ve decided to finish unpacking Bond’s things together this weekend. But something came up, and Bond was sent out. During the past week those boxes have become the cats’ new haunt, but they took up quite a lot of room and were an eyesore in their living space, so Q just figured he might as well start getting rid of those boxes alone.

So here he is, holding a photo album with _“Venice, 2006”_ written over the cover and not having a clue what to do about it.

Of course Q knew about Vesper. Q would be lying if he says Vesper never comes into his mind when he is with Bond. In fact it couldn’t be further away from the truth. How could Q not have given thoughts to a woman who Bond once gave up an entire life for (and probably will again given half the chance).

Back then Q was merely a junior programmer, fresh out of university. He knew of Bond only by reputation—the youngest in the Double-Oh program, probably M’s favourite, who fucked up his first mission by falling in love with an enemy agent. 

He never thought that piece of information would become relevant one day. Then he went and fell in love with the aforementioned agent.

Just because Q’s a masochist he opens the album. He thought he was prepared, that he was secure enough against a dead woman. He couldn't be more wrong. He is completely unprepared for the onslaught of turmoil within himself as soon as he saw the first photo. 

The first photo is of them together, presumably taken by a passing tourist. Bond is holding a beautiful woman around the waist while the woman leans against Bond’s side looking like she belongs there, both of them smiling, eyes lit up with happiness. Q is overcome with jealousy. The woman looks perfect—brilliant figure, striking features, dazzling green eyes, the graceful air she gives out, and her infuriatingly complete suitability to the gorgeous man standing next to her. He also realises with a pang the similarities between him and Vesper—not that he flatters himself to be even close to that glamorous—both have dark hairs, green eyes, both of slight build. For the first time in the entire course of his relationship with Bond, Q contemplates the possibility that, maybe, he’s just a poor substitute of an absent lover.

But the thing that hurts most is Bond’s expression. The dazzling smile so brilliant he could count the occasions he’s seen it with one hand, the familiar steely blue eyes shining with happiness and warmth, his stance relaxed and he looks so, so happy like Q’s never seen. He looks in love. He _was_ in love.

Q goes a bit dizzy after that. Everything around him fades away and all that’s left in the world is the photo album in his hand, mocking and taunting him. He turns the page.

A lot of photos are of Vesper alone, taken by Bond. And those ones are worse in that most of them were taken unaware by the subject. They are Bond’s memories of Vesper, exactly from Bond’s point of view. Vesper enjoying the sea breeze on the deck, eyes closed and hair flying; Vesper playing with a little trinket curiously at the local shop; Vesper laughing to the camera—to Bond—directly… He could see how smitten Bond was just by the photos he took of her.

Q puts the album down, belatedly realising his hands are shaking. He also feels a bit sick. He knew about Vesper. He thought he was over the fact the Bond once loved another person enough to give up his entire career (life) for that person, and that Bond was only here, with him, because that person was no longer there. Now, confronted with the reality, Q realises that he never even knew the extent of love Bond felt towards said person. He only had this abstract idea of Vesper, and now that the idea takes form, all sorts of old doubts resurface.

From the very start of their relationship, Q has always held some doubts about both himself and Bond’s intentions. Q couldn’t figure out how Bond would have an eye for a scrawny snappy Q-branch boffin. He could have anyone, yet he chose Q. At first Q thought it was because of their mutual grief regarding M’s death and the rapport they shared during the leading up events of said death, but then Bond kept coming back, so Q figures he was just convenient. But then they became closer, and Bond seemed more relaxed and open around him. Bond had this private smile reserved only for him (and now he knows, for another person), and he was not only affectionate in the bedroom but outside of it as well, and Q thought Bond might love him just a little bit after all. Bond does love him—now, two years later, Q knows this for a fact, even though Bond might never admit it to him _or himself_ —just perhaps not as much as he loved Vesper.

Staring at the album in front of him, Q contemplates what to do. 

He would never confront Bond with this. This is Bond’s past, belonging only to him and if he wants to share it one day with Q, that’s entirely Bond’s choice. Bond also might get defensive or distant if Q ever even casually mentions Vesper. He couldn't put it away on the shelf or in a drawer, because that would be him making decisions for Bond, also because that would be a bomb waiting to explode in his face one day Bond eventually comes across it.

So Q chooses the easiest way out. He puts the album back, exactly where he found it, put other stuff he took out earlier back into the boxes, then discreetly moves the boxes to less conspicuous corner in the flat. He figures if it’s out of the way neither of them would be in a hurry to sort them out, and if Bond would leave the boxes in storage for two year, it couldn't be that urgent anyway.

———

It’s months before Bond brings it up. Over the months in between, Q tried his best to behave normally, and made double efforts to impress Bond (both with his inventions and other things that aren't appropriate to talk about in polite company). And he might have been a bit needy at times. He noticed he would look away if Bond was being flirted or actively flirting when he was with him, he tried to stop behaving so jealous and irrational when he knew none of those flirting would actually come to anything, but he caught himself doing it anyway at times. If Bond noticed, he didn't let on. _Or he didn't care to let on_ , a devious little voice inside Q’s mind unhelpfully adds.

When Bond brings the boxes up it’s another slow weekend. Bond is reading a book on sofa, Q lying also on the sofa, using Bond’s thighs as pillow, typing away on his laptop.

“Wherever did my old stuff end up?” Bond asks completely out of blue.

Q tenses up a little at the words, then forces himself to relax before Bond takes notice. “Oh they’re in the corner of the study. We got busy and it was in the way.” Q replies as casually as he can.

“Well, I’d better sort them out while I’ve got the time then. Want to help?” Bond looks down at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief and Q knows Bond must be thinking of the conversation they had about his Navy uniform, which, Q knows for a fact that is in there and it did indeed turn Q on very much until he saw the album. Q doubts by the end of this Bond would be in any mood to carry out what he has in mind right now, but he doesn't see any way out of this disaster waiting to happen, so he answers “sure” with an ease he doesn't feel and gets up with Bond.

Bond doesn't see the album immediately—Q took great care putting it at the bottom of a box. But when he does, Q almost immediately knows without even witnessing the discovery, because all of sudden all the racket in the background quietens to nothing, even the cats stops jumping around sensing the change of atmosphere in the air. Q turns to Bond, however reluctant.

Bond doesn't seem to be taking notice of his surrounding any longer. He’s staring at the album, completely still. It is unsettling and eerie. Q sees the recognition in Bond’s eyes, along with the pain and longing that hurt Q probably even more than Bond. Q knows that he’s the one constant that Bond has in this life, but as much claim he has over the man, Q still feels he’s intruding a private moment. Despite Q’s masochism and morbid curiosity, Q doesn't want to witness the man he love looking at another woman, who is not even alive anymore, with such tenderness and longing and regret.

Q turns away, can’t bear the sight one second longer, pretending never having noticed Bond’s mind wandered to a private space where Q’s not allowed in. Q doesn't really know how to deal with this, whatever Bond chooses to do with the album. He doesn’t know if he wants Bond to hide this from him, or tell him about it. If Bond hides it from it, it just confirms there’s part of Bond that Q’s never allowed to see, a part of soul Bond once bared to another human being _(a woman)_ that he never intends to share with Q. On the other hand, Q’s not sure he wants Bond to talk to him about it. Just imagining the conversation makes Q cringe. 

In the end Q opts for the coward way out, he simply walks out of the room and leaves Bond there, reminiscing the past. Bond doesn't seem to notice his leaving, which just makes Q feel even worse—apparently Q couldn’t even capture Bond’s attention more than a dead woman. He bitterly thought he could never compete with the dead woman who was once Bond’s salvation and love.

———

Q keeps walking until he realises it’s dark outside. Not good, losing track of time. Especially unforgivable when you’re a branch head of SIS. He also realises for the first time in hours that the reason he had his uninterrupted walk to calm himself down is because he forgot to bring his phone with him. Or wallet. And he’s walked quite a distance. Brilliant, he can’t even call for a taxi in this state.

It is another hour before Q finally reaches home. Q comes back to a dark flat. He supposes Bond is somewhere wallowing in his sorrow with alcohol. 

_He would come back though._ Q holds on that thought stubbornly. _He will._ Vesper is dead, Bond could hardly defeat death and bring her back despite his remarkable record of brushing with Death. Q knows he is no great substitute, but he also knows that despite all his inadequacies, Bond seems to have found at least some sort of haven and peace with him.

Q wonders however Bond would behave once he gets back. Most likely he would act nonchalant, pretending nothing has happened. And in truth nothing _actually_ happened, nothing tangible, at the very least. Only that the equilibrium of Q’s life is forever broken and never to be gained back. For the rest of their affair (now Q wonders how long he has left with Bond, it’s amazing how certain things gives one new perspective) Q would always feel the inadequacies and private fears that Q’s just there for no other reason that he’s convenient and agreeable to Bond’s every whim or just because he’s simply _there_ , alive, unlike the person he had in mind to spend the rest of his life with.

 _But he will come back, and we will probably pretend today never happened. So what? Life goes on,_ we _go on._

Holding on to the thought still, Q goes looking for his phone. It’s on silent. He is surprised to see many unanswered calls. The first 13 are from Bond. The next 5 are from Eve. He calls Eve back.

When the call goes through, Eve’s anxious strings of sentences greet Q immediately. “Oh thank god you’re alright. Where have you been? Bond went mad looking for you. Give him a call will you? Or if you don’t want to call him right now I could do it for you, just to tell him you’re fine. He led me to believe that he had done something that upset you.”

Q is very surprised to know Bond isn’t reacting the way he thought he would react. Well, Bond is predictable in his unpredictability like that. “What do you mean he went looking for me?”

“Well what do you expect? Bond said you just left the flat when he was distracted, and didn't come back for hours. He tried to call and you weren't answering you phone…”

“I forgot to take my phone when I walked out.”

Silence on the other end. Long enough to make Q take the phone away to see if the call is disconnected due to poor reception. It isn’t.

“Eve?”

“It must be serious then. For you to forget your phone.”A pause, then, hesitate, “Are you all right?”, another pause, this time, when Eve speaks, it is with a stern and surprisingly protective tone, “Do you need me to take revenge on Bond for you? I can have him grounded and give him tons of paperwork. Or I can put my stiletto to inventive use. Just ask, Q.”

“I…”Q’s still not overcome with the fact Bond would make such a fuss over Q’s absence. “No…” Then, more firmly, “No. I’m fine. We’re fine. No need to worry.” It’s a lie. They’re not all right, and he suspects Eve knows. But Bond doesn’t deserve the severe punishment that Eve is sure to impose unto him. Bond didn’t do anything wrong, he could hardly manipulate his own emotions. What happened simply can’t be helped. “Where is Bond now?”

“I think he’s going through all your usual haunts now. I don’t think he’s told anyone else at Six. Yet.”

“Okay, thanks Eve, I’ll make it up to you later, I’m calling Bond now. Bye.”

Q doesn't allow himself too much time before calling Bond just in case he loses the courage. He’s, again, immediately assaulted with yet another anxious voice. Q never knew Bond could get this rattled—he always seem so put together all the time. “Q? Are you all right? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m back at home. I forgot my phone.”

“Stay there. I’ll come to you.” Then, as an afterthought, “That is…If you’re all right with me going home right now?” He likes that Bond is referring to his flat, _their_ flat as _home_.

Q feels a bit guilty at that. Bond didn't to anything to deserve his doubts, and now he feels the need to ask for permission before coming home.

“It’s all right. Come home.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. See you later.” Bond hangs up. Q looks at his phone screen, feeling surreal and almost incredulous.

———

Bond must have broken quite a few traffic laws to be able to go back this soon. When he gets home, he looks so relieved to see Q still there. The first thing he does is take Q into his arms and give him a bear hug, then checks for any possible injuries before pressing several kisses on Q’s forehead, all the while murmuring “Thank god you’re all right”.

It is a whole minute before Bond finally pulls away. His expression gets a bit serious. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“It was nothing.” Q looks down. He knows Bond always sees through his lies, but he hopes Bond would take the cue and let this go, for the sakes of both of them.

Bond goes quiet at this. He looks unreadable. Q’s not sure what’s going through Bond’s mind at the moment, but whatever it is, it doesn't bode well.

“It’s obviously not nothing if you just wandered through London for the past six hours without noticing the time.”

Q doesn't know how to respond to this. Why couldn't Bond just let this go? Q understands, he really does. In Bond’s heart there will always be a special place reserved for another person Bond once deeply loved and probably still loves. And if Q wants whatever-this-is with Bond to go on, he would have to accept this fact and share Bond’s heart with a ghost. It’s more or less a moot point really, because the person he has to share Bond’s heart with is no longer alive (though it doesn't hurt any less). There’s also nothing that can be done about it. It’s not like he could ask Bond to stop loving someone. It’s not fair for both of them, and the only thing it would achieve is to poison what they already have.

Seeing Q’s not going to reply, Bond finally brings up the elephant in the room. “It’s about the album isn't it.”

“It’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it. I know it brings up…unpleasant memories.” Q answers in small voice, missing Bond’s warm embrace.

“I want to talk about it. We _need_ to talk about it.” Bond says firmly, then, much more tenderly, “Q, what happened today? Can you talk me through your logic, please? I gathered you’ve already seen the album.”

Q looks guilty at this, and he tries to look for any hint of anger in Bond’s features. He finds none. There are only worry and tenderness there. “It really was nothing…It was just…You looked so happy. With her. And I thought to myself, how could I possibly compare to her, to what you two had?”

Bond, again, goes quiet. It’s infuriating. Bond is looking at his in a very strange way. A mixture of incredulousness and pain in his expression. Q has no idea what to make of it.

“You really have no idea.” Bond breathes out.

“What? What do I have no idea of?” Q almost brittles at this. Bond, who has the emotional age of a three-year-old, accuses him of ignorance about the matter of love?

“You think I’m still not over Vesper, after all those years, you think I’m still madly in love with a dead woman?”

“Don’t lie to me, Bond. Just don’t. It’s fine you still love her. You do, don’t deny it, I’m not stupid. But don’t lie to me about it, Bond.”

“I’m not denying it. I do still think fondly of her from time to time. And there may be times when I wondered about all the could-have-beens. For a long time I thought about all the possibilities of settling into a domestic life with the idea of Vesper, but I don’t need those thoughts anymore, Q, because those thoughts have already become my reality, with you. Don’t ever think of yourself as a replacement, or a second choice, because you’re not. You’re all I want, if you’ll have me.”

“But you quit Six for her.” As overwhelmed Q is at Bond’s speech, he just couldn't help adding. He wants to slap himself as soon as he utters those words.

“Is that what you want? Me quitting MI6?” Bond looks like he’s seriously considering this possibility. Q is so relieved he could cry. He doesn't want Bond to quit, of course, but the fact that Bond is willing to even consider it is proof enough that he cares.

“No.” Q shakes his head, “No. You love working for Six, and your job’s a part of you that I don’t ever want to take away from you. I don’t want you unhappy. I don’t want to change you. I want you just as you’re.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

“You do?” Q can’t believe what he just heard.

“Yes.”

And that is all the confirmation Q needs to give Bond a long kiss that soon turns passionate that they have to move on to their bedroom, doors closed to keep out snooping cats.

———

Later, when they are in bed, Bond is spooning Q, his right hand absent-mindedly caressing Q’s side. Into Q’s ear, he whispers, “I love you, very much, just in case it wasn’t clear.”

“Okay.”

Bond pulls away, expression mock-hurt, “Just okay? I’m hurt by your indifference.”

Q gives his put-upon sigh, entirely delighted and charmed and playful, “Fine. If you insist. Love you too. Satisfied?”

“Hmm…”Bond pretends to consider, “No, that wasn't very convincing, you will have to show me.” With that, Bond flips Q over and starts doing wicked things with his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic kind of just happened.
> 
> Thanks for reading if you’ve made this far. This is the third fic I've ever posted. And I just want to thank anyone who took the moment to comment on/press kudos/bookmark any of my fics, I’ve received surprisingly overwhelming responses for the previous two and they’re the reason why I want to keep writing and sharing my stories.
> 
> Still not a native speaker (not even close), so sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> Much love


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